Time Heals All Wounds
by KTBallerina
Summary: Ginny Weasley is haunted by the events of her first year, ashamed of her disastrous relationship with Harry Potter, and terrified of losing the only person who saw her as whole.
1. Chapter 1

Time Heals All Wounds

Ginny Weasley is haunted by the events of her first year, ashamed of her disastrous relationship with Harry Potter, and terrified of losing the only person who saw her as whole.

KTBallerina

Time Heals All Wounds

When I was five years old I fell running down the big hill in our backyard playing chase with Ron, Fred, and George. I cut my knee pretty badly and began to cry. Ron took me into the kitchen to Mum. She carefully washed and bandaged the cut. Still sniffling, I left the kitchen and went upstairs to my room.

Not one week later the entire cut was gone, no scar. And when I showed Mum, she smiled at me and said, "Time heals all wounds."

I was amazed.

At eleven years old, I was already responsible for several very near deaths and unleashing a monster loose on an entire school. Needless to say I was a bit of an outcast and seemed more of an inconvenience than anything else.

Nobody admits to holding a grudge over it, but I wouldn't blame them. After all, I can not imagine being petrified is a very pleasant death. No one really talks about it much, mostly because Ron would have a go at them.

Plus, I myself have a bit of a temper myself and a spot of brilliant with minor hexes. Even though most people think of me as sweet, it never hurts to know how to wave a wand. I mean, I did grow up with six brothers.

I had six brothers who did nothing but tease me for my entire life. That's six brothers who left me out of everything, simply because I was a girl. So, when I got my Hogwarts letter I was excited to have friends who were girls. I was going to be able to talk about hair and robes, instead of quidditch and belching.

However, it seemed I would never have any friends who were girls, not that year anyways. It seemed as though fate had an entirely different plan for me. Consequently, I was forced to live a whole year without any real friends. Well, I did have something close to a friend. He was a boy, who was obviously amused by me, despite the fact I had red hair and numerous freckles.

I had another sort of friend. He was an older boy who first became a mentor and then an obsession. Unfortunately, one of his great strengths was manipulation. And I admit, I was an easy target. I will never forget those first words he wrote me after my brothers teased me about my crush on Harry Potter.

_Hello Ginny, my name is Tom Riddle. _

Before I even got on the train, I was doomed. I wrote in a diary that contained the memory of a Dark Lord. Not exactly the best way to start your career at Hogwarts. Besides the intense feelings of guilt and brief periods where I believed myself to be losing my mind, I still felt alone.

So, even after trying to get rid of the book, it found its way back into my hands. Okay, I did steal it back, but I was afraid someone would find out the truth. I did not want anyone to know I had been the one opening the Chamber of Secrets. Honestly, it seemed being poor and awkward was punishment enough already to me. Being labeled a murderer and prejudice seemed a little extreme.

Besides the fact I was being influenced by a Dark Lord, my brother completely ignored me. My brother, Ron, to be more exact. He and I had once been best friends, but now he only had time for Harry Potter and Hermione Granger. I was insanely jealous of the pair of them. And I was jealous of Ron, who had befriended Harry Potter.

I had a crush on Harry Potter. I know about two girls at Hogwarts who did not. I know I acted silly and that my Valentine was complete rubbish, but cut me some slack. I was only eleven and he was famous. But, people seemed to think my crush on Harry Potter was yet another reason to ostracize me.

So, considering all this it was really no surprise I spent much of my time first year alone by the lake. Mostly, thinking and writing, while I watched the Giant Squid swim around, but sometimes I talked to him.

The first time we spoke he talked to me.

"I'm not exactly an innocent twelve year old," he said cautiously to me one day, while he kicked some stones into the lake.

"Me neither," I answered back calmly, carefully looking at him.

"What have you done?" he asked with a slight smirk, expecting the answer to be some petty affair.

"I'm not twelve," I replied cheekily, which made him laugh. It was one of the few times I ever saw him so unabashed.

Draco Malfoy was another important boy in my life. Because he was real to me. He talked to me like I wasn't silly. At least, he treated me decently when we were alone. I couldn't say the same about when we were in the corridors, but I understood.

"I smoke," he mentioned casually, which seemed strange because he rarely said anything without thinking about it first. Just then he lit another cigarette from the pack he carried in his breast pocket.

"So?" I asked trying to sound mature and just as casual as he, but I seemed to fail miserably because he smirked again. And it was not the unabashed smile from before.

"So, big brother…big brothers, probably don't want you hanging around me," Draco stated calmly as he took another puff. "I might ruin you."

"I don't think you could ruin me, not after what I've done," I said only half-joking.

Draco looked at her for a minute and shrugged. To him, I guess I probably seemed perfectly okay. I mean, I was wholesome and plain Ginny Weasley. I guess, in the beginning even Draco didn't really see me as what I was.

"Whatever, I'm sure you're a real menace," he said the smile appearing on his face once more.

"I tried to kill a man," I added hoping he would hear the truth in the statement and realize what I was. Or who I was.

This time, he laughed so hard birds flew from the trees.


	2. Chapter 2

Time Heals All Wounds

Ginny Weasley is haunted by the events of her first year, ashamed of her disastrous relationship with Harry Potter, and terrified of losing the only person who saw her as whole.

KTBallerina

Honesty is the Best Policy

When I was six, I broke Mum's lamp that she kept in the living room. It was a family heirloom, one of the only ones she had. Her family had been moderately wealthy, but her dowry was stretched thin by a family of nine. Upon hitting the floor, it smashed into a thousand pieces, maybe a thousand and one.

When she asked who broke the lamp, I was scared to tell her it was me. Her eyes lingered on Fred and George as she stared accusingly at them. It was probable they were the ones who caused another accident. The moment seemed to go on for days.

"I did," I told her, tears welling up in my eyes. Instead of yelling, she pulled me into her warm embrace.

"Honesty is the best policy," she told me.

I remembered that for a long time. In fact, I remembered that, but I never seemed to be able to tell anyone the truth. Or not about Tom Riddle, the Chamber of Secrets, or what I really felt.

I thought about Harry Potter constantly that first year, if I had known how things were going to turn out between us I would have run the other way. Well, probably not, but I wouldn't have made it so obvious. It was that year, that I hid my crush on Harry and tried to move on with the rest of my life.

So, that year and the following I put forth an effort to ignore my feelings for him and act normal. This had been Hermione's tactful suggestion and I still don't know if I'm grateful for it. I was still shy, and didn't say much. It was better than chasing him down with Valentines and the like, though. The crush became less apparent on the surface.

Reflecting back, I am certain I loved him. And that for some reason, we could never be together. Maybe it was because he would always think of me as Ginny Weasley, his best friend's little sister. It was his loss, because in the end it hurt him the most.

Draco and I always avoided discussing Harry. It sounds silly, but he was a vice we both had. I mean, to Draco he was the enemy, his rival. And to me, he was the unobtainable. Not exactly a pleasant topic for either of us.

We avoided things of that nature while we were together. So, some topics were naturally avoided. Mostly, our families and our Houses and the latest quidditch game and each other's friends and our favorite teachers and politics. Well, that sounds like we didn't talk about much, and maybe we didn't.

I never told Draco I opened the Chamber of Secrets. I didn't want him to feel responsible for what his father did. Besides, after my first year the incident was entirely forgotten by almost everyone.

Everyone except Ron and I. However, we responded to it entirely differently. He seemed to think the whole situation was another reason to treat me like a child. And I, well I will never forget because the memories are entirely too painful. They remain at the corners of my consciousness. Even before I arrived at school before for my second year I had another reminder.

Dementors searched the Hogwarts Express. The Dementors make you relive the horrors of the past. I had to relive the moment when Lucius Malfo gave me the diary and when Tom Riddle appeared out of the diary and what he did to me. How he tried to suck the life out of me to make himself whole.

Sometimes, I feel like I never got all of my soul back. Or that some of the soul in body was his. Nobody else can really say the Dark Lord possessed their soul, no besides me anyways. Because once you've seen the darkness, you can never really be okay ever again.

I remember Ron saying Draco didn't look none too happy when he saw the Dementors, either. I never asked him what he saw, I didn't want him to reciprocate the question and ask me. It never occurred to me that Draco was scared of anything.

It was weird because I knew what Harry was afraid of without even asking. Voldemort. Losing his friends. Being alone. I debated before writing the last one. Because I know he would do anything to keep from being alone.

I know loads about Harry. I learned from listening, while I was supposed to be reading or eating. I learned from Hermione, who needed some relief from her pair of male friends. I learned from watching him interact.

I am simply the type of person who learns as they live. I learned mischief from George and Fred. I learned quidditch from Charlie and study skills from Percy. I learned how to be cool from Bill. I don't exactly know what I learned from Ron, because I can't play chess. However, I am sure I learned something, I just don't know what.

That year, I learned from Remus Lupin. I have talent in Defense Against the Dark Arts, too. Not that anybody ever cared, but I really am. Remus Lupin helped me fight against a boggart, not exactly a Dementor but impressive for a second year. Draco was curious about where I went every other Thursday, knowing I did not have classes.

"Been a busy bee?" he asked one day after she threw her stuff down a little ways down from him by the lake.

"No," I said as calmly as I could, trying to imitate his air of indifference.

"Secret quidditch practice so you can make the house team next year?" he guessed idly, taking a puff from his cigarette.

"Meeting a boy for assignations by the lake?" he asked a hint of both amusement and laughter in his voice at the very thought.

"No," I replied, laughing, "only you."

"Boggart lessons, perhaps?" Draco stated dryly. I was certain, my jaw hit the floor when he said this.

"How did you-"

"What does the boggart become when it sees you?" he asked suddenly. I stiffened, I never dreamed it would come to this. How could I tell him the teenaged Voldemort was my greatest fear? "It obviously bothers you, otherwise lessons wouldn't be important."

"Your father, Voldemort." I had only hesitated for only a moment. I had broken one of our sacred rules. I discussed family.

Draco put out the burning end of his cigarette, he stood up and walked away. He never even looked back. For a brief moment I thought about chasing him, and telling him the truth.

But, I never did.


End file.
